


So We Just Say "Replace"

by AgentOregon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: (it happens eventually i promise), Asexual Wash, M/M, Season 11
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2199084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOregon/pseuds/AgentOregon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Church is gone, Caboose is depressed. Tucker and Wash might be each other's last hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tucker was exhausted.  
Wash's training regiments were getting ridiculous. Tucker didn't know how much longer he could put up with doing this every day.  
He stripped off his armor as he made his way to his bunk, leaving the pieces in a trail behind him through the base. His feet were dragging when he finally collapsed onto his bed, peeling off his sweat-soaked t-shirt and tossing it away.  
A moment after he closed his eyes, he heard footsteps at the entrance to the base. As they grew closer Tucker groaned and rolled onto his back.  
"Tucker?"  
Wash was standing in the doorway, his helmet in one hand and Tucker's in the other.  
Tucker grunted.  
Wash seemed to wait for more of a response, then stuttered hesitantly, "I…I'm sorry if today was too much. I just figured we should start to increase reps and--"  
"Uh huh." Tucker sat up, rubbing his neck. "Look, Wash. I appreciate all your…hard work, and everything. But y'know…all I'm wondering is, why the hell do I have to do this?"  
Wash's gaze drifted to the floor. "It's…for your own good, Tucker, your team needs--"  
"My team." Tucker scoffed. "You mean Caboose? He couldn't care less what I do for him. All he wants is to have Church back. How it used to be. Can't say I blame him." He rolled onto his side, facing away from Wash. "Church never made us run laps around the base."  
Wash closed his eyes briefly, dropping Tucker's helmet. The impact echoed through the base. "Tucker--"  
"Even if he was just a program. 'Artificial.' He was real to Caboose. To all of us. God, I hated him, and without him we might never have gotten caught in this shitstorm. But without him…" Tucker sighed heavily. "Who would any of us be without him?"  
Wash blinked, confused to realize his eyes were stinging. He set his helmet down and walked slowly to Tucker's bed. He sat down on the edge of it, placing his hand awkwardly on Tucker's shoulder. "I'm sorry. That you all got brought into this. I wish…that the reds and blues could still just be messing around in Blood Gulch, and never have been a part of this."  
Tucker shifted onto his back, staring up at Wash. "We already were a part of it, weren't we? From the beginning. Blood Gulch was just a figment of Project Freelancer's imagination." He laughed icily. "We were fucked from day one."  
Wash chuckled, his hand resting on Tucker's forearm. "I suppose you were." He held the soldier's gaze for a moment, then turned away. "Somehow…in some twisted way I'm glad all of this happened. I'm glad I got to be…to meet…y'know, to fight with--"  
"Yeah." There was a smile in Tucker's voice. "Careful, Wash. Don't get too emotional. Can't have our fearless leader showing his soft side."  
Wash glanced down to catch a wink from Tucker. He rolled his eyes and stood up. "How about we take a break from training tomorrow, huh?"  
Tucker closed his eyes and stretched, pointing his toes off the end of the bed. "If you insist." He put one hand behind his head and saluted lazily with the other. "Now with all due respect, sir, get the fuck out so I can sleep."  
Wash picked up Tucker's damp shirt from the floor, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "Um. Ew."  
Tucker groaned loudly and hauled himself up, marched over to shove Wash's armored butt towards the door with his bare foot, then melted back onto his bed. He quickly drifted to sleep to the clanking sounds of Wash gathering up Tucker's haphazardly discarded armor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church is gone, Caboose is depressed. Tucker and Wash might be each other's last hope.

With Caboose around, no one ever had any hope of sleeping in. Every morning was like Christmas, because he got to hang out with his friends again.  
At least, it used to be that way. Until Church left.  
Tucker or Wash often had to drag Caboose out of bed with the promise of a game or the first choice of breakfast food.  
After a particularly difficult morning where Caboose woke up from a dream that Church had never left, Tucker and Wash spent hours in silence while Caboose roamed the canyon aimlessly. The two soldiers wordlessly cleaned the base together, now accustomed to communicating through glances and head movements.  
Eventually Tucker realized he had distractedly swept the same hallway three times within the last hour. He scoffed loudly at himself, staring incredulously at his own hands. Wash poked his head around the corner, his eyebrows raised.  
"I'm taking a break," Tucker growled, tossing the broom to Wash as he brushed past him.   
"Good idea. I'll join you," the freelancer called after him.  
Tucker paused and glanced over his shoulder. "You will?" he asked, surprised.  
Wash carefully leaned the broom against the wall. "If you don't mind."   
He caught up to Tucker and the two emerged from the base, finding a spot to sit in the shade against the outside wall.  
Silence prevailed over them again for several minutes. Tucker picked at a loose thread in his shirt. Wash drew incoherent shapes in the dirt with his finger.   
Eventually Wash muttered, "Need to get Caboose back to training…"  
Tucker glanced sideways at him. Wash was slowly tracing something on the ground -- a triangle?  
"Wash, don't you think we could ease up on Caboose's training a bit? We both know he's pretty depressed…"  
"Mm." Wash wasn't paying much attention. He drew another shape -- an O with a line through the middle.   
"What's that?"  
"Huh? Oh." Wash glanced at Tucker, then back down. "It's…theta."  
Tucker nodded slowly, staring at the drawing. "An A.I."  
"Yeah…"  
"Whose?"  
Wash sighed, brushing the shape away. "North." He hunched forward, turning his face away from Tucker.  
"Ah…" Tucker stared at his friend's defeated form. Wash had talked about the other freelancers before, but he'd never shut down like this. Tucker cautiously put his arm around Wash's shoulders.   
"He was the best," Wash said quietly.  
"I thought you said Carolina --"  
"Not like that. I mean…the best person. The best friend any of us had. Looked out for everyone." Wash faced forward again, leaning his head back against the wall. "That's why he had Theta." He laughed softly. "North was the only one soft enough to be that kind and patient with an A.I."  
Tucker pulled his arm away, leaning his head on Wash's shoulder instead. "Maybe he was the only one strong enough."  
Wash chuckled, nodding slowly. "You're right…you're right." He absentmindedly traced a circle in the dirt.   
Tucker noticed and glanced down. He drew a horizontal line across the circle.   
"Poor kid," Wash murmured.   
Tucker knew he wasn't referring to North.   
Wash leaned his head on Tucker's. "All the freelancers…they were special. They all cared, you know, in their own ways. Some, more…violently than others." He smiled, watching Tucker draw swirls near Wash's feet. "Never thought I'd have the privilege of being friends with anyone more special than any of them. More…important to me." He gently placed his hand on Tucker's. The blue soldier froze in the middle of his abstract drawing.   
"Oh." Tucker's eyes widened slightly. "You…what?"  
Wash stiffened, removing his hand and lifting his head off Tucker's. "Uh -- sorry --"  
Tucker laughed, sitting up. "No, no. You're fine." Wash relaxed as Tucker brushed a hand across his shoulder. "And, Wash…I'm honored."  
The freelancer glanced at him. "Well…I mean…"  
Tucker grinned and stood up, offering Wash a hand. "Let's go track down Caboose, huh? I don't care if I have to clean the entire base without him, but I draw the line at washing his underwear."


	3. Chapter 3

"One more rep," Wash commanded, standing near the two soldiers' heads as they did push-ups.   
"Okay!" Caboose obliged cheerfully.  
Tucker groaned. He paused, letting his head drop for a moment.   
"C'mon, Tucker, Caboose is almost done."  
"Yeah, yeah…" Tucker resumed counting.   
"What next, Wash?" Caboose asked, popping to his feet.  
"Let's wait for Tucker," Wash said, nodding to the other soldier.  
Tucker sighed loudly as he pushed himself off the ground. "Okay, I'm done. Let's get the rest over with."  
"Three laps around the canyon," Wash instructed.  
Caboose took off right away. Tucker was not as eager.  
"Really, Wash? Then what? We'll come back and do all the same shit again? Crunches, squats? How much more do you want from us? How much more of this do we have to do?"  
Wash's tone through his radio was unforgiving. "You'll do however much I tell you to do." He turned away, watching Caboose's retreating figure.   
"Wash, I really don't get it. I know you said it's 'for the good of the team,' and all. But at what point can we just say…it's good enough?"  
"It'll never be good enough!" Wash shouted suddenly, whirling around to face him. Tucker flinched. "What does 'good enough' mean to you, Tucker? Does it mean you're able to infiltrate a high-security building and steal top-secret information from the enemy without so much as leaving a speck of dust out of place? Or that you can take out an entire squad of soldiers with one hand behind your back and a fogged-up helmet? Or that your teammates trust you so strongly that they can fling themselves off the top of a skyscraper because they know you'll catch them before they hit the ground? Because they could all do that! All of them were 'good enough' -- they were better than good enough, they were damn near perfect, and now they're all dead!"  
Tucker stared at him in shock. He slowly removed his helmet and took a small step toward Wash.  
Wash looked away, taking off his own helmet.   
"Wash…" Tucker reached out, hesitated, then put his hand on Wash's shoulder. The freelancer met Tucker's gaze.   
"I'm sorry, Tucker. I shouldn't have said…it's just…hard to forget--"  
"It's okay. You don't have to forget them," Tucker assured him quietly.  
"They deserve to be remembered," Wash insisted.  
Tucker nodded.  
"But…I'm sorry. I shouldn't be trying to turn you into them." Wash's head dropped. "I just want to make sure you -- I want you to be able to -- you know…protect each other. And protect yourselves."   
"I know. And we will." Tucker smiled half-heartedly. "Somehow we lasted this long without getting ourselves killed."   
Wash nodded slowly. "I suppose so."  
"And I'm sure being trained by a soldier of Project Freelancer can't hurt, right?"  
"You would think," Wash said bitterly.  
"As long as you're around, I think Caboose and I will be just fine. The reds, too. You're a good soldier, Wash. You're loyal to your team. But I think you also want us to be fighting for the right reason, and that makes you a good man." Tucker avoided Wash's gaze. "It makes you someone I'm proud to call our leader."  
Wash took a deep breath. "Tucker…thank you, I--"  
Tucker pulled Wash toward him. Wash stood frozen in his embrace, and after a moment put one hand around the back of Tucker's neck.   
"You don't need to say that," Tucker said into Wash's shoulder. "But you're welcome." He pulled away, grinning. "Idiot."  
Wash rolled his eyes, trying to hide his own smile. "Now you sound like them."  
Tucker dropped his hand from Wash's shoulder.   
"It's okay," Wash assured him. "You remind me of them sometimes. All of them, in different ways. Especially York." He looked at Tucker thoughtfully. "Yeah…you and York would have got along great."   
Tucker shifted his weight, wondering if he should ask. "What…what was York like?"  
Wash stared past Tucker's shoulder. His eyes had lost their softness.   
"Hey, Wash! What now?" Caboose was suddenly right next to them.  
Wash didn't give any indication that he had even noticed Caboose.  
Tucker pulled his gaze away from the freelancer. "Uh -- Caboose, Wash said we can be done for today."  
"Aw." Caboose's shoulders slumped. He quickly straightened up again. "So can I go do something else?"   
"Um…sure?"  
"Okay! See you guys later!" He took off again.  
Tucker stared after him, bewildered.  
"I'm going to go clean my armor," Wash said suddenly. His tone was dry.  
Tucker's gaze snapped to him. "Okay…see you later, then?"  
Wash didn't respond. He began walking toward the base, accidentally dropping his helmet on the way. He stopped, stared at it on the ground, then continued toward the entrance without picking it up.  
Tucker sighed as Wash disappeared inside. He walked over, grabbed Wash's helmet, and followed the freelancer inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Eventually we'll have Tucker/asexual Wash I promise. Because we always need more of that honestly


End file.
